Que Sera, Sera
by QueenOfCitrus
Summary: IchiHitsu: "Going to ask him out again, are we?" Matsumoto inquired coyly. "Like you have to ask," came Ichigo's murmur, and then he added as a second thought: "Do you still keep the count?" The waitress beamed, leafing the pages of her pad swiftly, till she found the needed page: "With today, that makes fifty-four, Ichigo." M-rated; FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: ATTENTION!_**

**_Ok, first of all... this was supposed to be a one-shot. Then, when it got longer than I expected, I planned for it to be a two-shot. Now it looks like we're hitting a three-shot, a four-shot if I'm too eloquent with the last part. This story is... a lot different than anything I've written before. Much more emotional than anything I've written before. So, if you're not in for emotional stuff, just... yeah... Thanks for stopping by. Now, in the next chapter there'll be a lemon. I'm just telling you guys in advance. BIG HUGE THANKS to my AMAZING beta, Amanda, who I burdened with reading the thing. _**

**_I hope, I really, really hope you enjoy this story. If you're good and review, the next part will be up in a very short period of time. Otherwise, I'll probably post it after I'm done with the whole humongous thing. So it's up to you when you're gonna get more. Yeah, I'm evil. *sly glint in the eyes*_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.  
_**

* * *

**Que Sera, Sera**

**Whatever will be, will be**

**Part 1**

The rain pattered gently on the cold morning asphalt, ran down the widescreens of the moving cars, slid along the gutters of the buildings and bounced from the passers-by's umbrellas in an almost challenging manner. People rushed down the sideways, hunched over and clutching the fronts of their jackets in hopes to keep the warmth in and the cold dampness out and away from their trembling bodies. The buses were overcrowded, the cafes full and every shelter was occupied with two times the number of men and women it could possibly take. The traffic jams were worse than ever, impatient drivers literally slogging the claxons, screaming profanities at the automobiles in their way. Karakura was soaking wet, ruffled and throbbing with the vexation, impatience and stress of its inhabitants**. **The tension was building with every person who left their home and joined the rumpus, almost always successfully charging the air with more and more unnecessary belligerence.

The door to café "Snow" flung back as Kurosaki Ichigo rushed inside, attempting to escape the rain that had managed to wet his hair and shoulders even in the short distance between his cabriolet and the front door. He stamped quickly on the already muddy doorstep, shaking off as many of the unabsorbed water drops as it was possible and looked up, scanning the place he knew like the palm of his hand with affection. A couple of people, mostly elderly men and women who, just as him, were regular costumers here, waved at him from their tables, instantly summoning a warm smile on his face.

It was strange how quickly the time had passed… Ichigo had been visiting this café every morning for a whole year now. A whole year, during which he had grown to love and cherish the priceless thirty minutes he got to spend on one of the small tables before the usual take-off for the university. The little habit had turned into much more than just a regular exercise to prompt his sleepy mind to begin working properly after a night of hard studying and almost no slumber; it was a needed ritual for a calm start of a smooth workday, a little indulgence that over an incredibly short span of time usually succeeded in summoning a bigger number of smiles on his face than the upcoming twelve hours of whatever...

Yes, "Snow" was a lovely little nook. The café was a diminutive, fondly built place, homey by definition and so unfitting with the rest of the buzzing, restless Karakura life that anyone who spent even a modicum of a minute here, would give up on the idea of elbowing on a queue in a second-rate coffee-shop ever again.

"Good morning, Ichigo." A tall, sultry waitress greeted with glee, scrambling the last few rows of somebody's order in her pad before tucking the pencil behind her ear.

"Good morning, Rangiku-san." The carrot-top replied, returning her smile for a moment before looking around himself in search of something. The woman's face immediately adopted a sly expression and she giggled under her breath.

"He's at the back, in the kitchen." She cooed condescendingly, a dreamy sigh escaping her lips for a second before her face became just a little bit more serious. "Pick a table and wait for him, ok? I need to get a couple of orders more and I'll be right there with you."

Ichigo's shoulders slumped and he grumbled something under his breath, probably grousing about having his intentions so easily unmasked, then took a place in the corner of the café, crossing his legs and fixing his eyes on the raindrops that landed in a steady rhythm on the thick window glass. As promised, a couple of minutes later Rangiku approached him again, humming a jolly tune to herself.

"What's it going to be today?"

"A rejection-killer, please?"

She laughed full-heartedly, completely ignoring the dejected expression on his face.

"Going to ask him out again, are we?"

"Like you have to ask**,**" Ichigo murmured, propping his elbow on the table and resting his cheek in the back of his hand. "Do you still keep the count?"

Matsumoto beamed, leafing the pages of her pad swiftly till she found a tightly filled rectangle of numbers.

"With today, that makes fifty-four, Ichigo."

"Lovely. I wonder if he has a statistic of his own. I wouldn't be surprised."

Matsumoto pouted playfully, shaking her head with sympathy as she rubbed the outlines of her lower lip with the back of her pencil, her pale blue eyes never once leaving the young man in front of her.

"With the look you've plastered on your face, one would think you can't possibly go beyond this level of misery…"

"Just wait for it,"the carrot-top murmured, his mouth twisting to the side with distaste as he leaned back in his chair, his body going completely limp in the seat. "And while we're waiting for the ice prince to grace us with his presence, I'd like a cappuccino with lots of sugar and… have Toushiro pick the dessert."

"Pick the desert yourself, you lazy schmuck." Came an amused voice as a slim pale teen with bright jade eyes and a haughty smirk stepped beside Rangiku, his fingers combing his impossible white hair absently as he placed a thin square menu in front of the carrot-top. "Eight o'clock sharp, huh, Kurosaki? I thought you wouldn't be coming here in this weather."

Ichigo chuckled, straightening up in his chair.

"And good morning to you, too, Toushiro."

"It's Hitsugaya**," **the shorter male corrected with a mildly exasperated roll of his aqua eyes. "When will you learn to read the badge?"

"When will you go out with me?"

"That's not really an argument." Hitsugaya pointed out, his smile fading a little as he titled his head to the side, a sparkle of something somber reflecting in his eyes as he gazed down at the strawberry. "I thought we spoke about this."

"Fifty-three times**,**" Matsumoto butted in, absently drawing carrots in her pad. Hitsugaya shot her a thunderous look, his lips pressing into a thin line as he reached to pinch her arm impudently, causing her to jump back with an indignant yip.

"_Ow_! That hurt!"

"That was the point! Now curb your overly curious self and go take care of the other customers."

With one last offended look, Rangiku spun around and strode away mirthlessly, leaving the two alone. After making sure she wasn't coming back any time soon, Hitsugaya turned to the other male and slid into the chair opposite him, a small sigh tearing between his lips as he crossed his arms on the table.

"Kurosaki-"

"Don't." Ichigo cut him off, raising his hand to stop the other one from continuing. "I've had enough of your excuses. I've had enough of all your random theories and explanations… I don't know what new idiocy you've come up with for today, but I want you to know… I would've stopped asking you out if**,** along all of your objections towards dating me**,** you didn't contradict yourself every step of the way."

"That's ridiculous."

"Then why do you look so guilty every time you turn me down, huh? One would think you'd have gotten used to it by now."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened ever so slightly**,** and his whole body seemed to tense with the next deep breath that he took, his slender fingers clenching into fists on top of the table.

"That's not true-"

"It's true and you know it." Ichigo retaliated mercilessly as he leaned forward, his hard eyes boring right into the suddenly very vulnerable teal ones. "Every time you say 'no' you look like your heart is going to shatter. Like your own refusal is hurting _you_ even more than it hurts me."

Hitsugaya's orbs were impossibly wide by now, his lips slightly parted and the base of his neck flushed with an adorable pink color. Ichigo's gaze, so intense, _so fucking intense_, seemed to be very well-aimed, as it lanced directly through his chest, making the boy's whole body visibly shrink into the seat. _Dammit… Damn it all! _In a sad attempt to collect himself, Toushiro tried to say something but the words turned to ash in his mouth, the syllables crunching between his teeth, as the reason behind his unaroused argument burned its way up his suddenly very tight throat, and all he could do, all he could rely on was a helpless shake of his head to defy his opponent. Ichigo's features softened at the sight**,** and he sighed almost inaudibly, his hand sliding across the table till his fingers brushed against the boy's pale knuckles in a sort of timid comfort.

"What's holding you back?" the carrot-top murmured, his eyes lowering to follow his fingers' gentle brush against the flawless flesh of the white-haired teen's hand. "Because I can see… I _know_ you want it."

Hitsugaya almost instantly averted his gaze, his thick lashes lowering to cast a gentle shade on his eyes as he shook his head yet again. His breathing felt peculiarly labored, his chest heavy as he tried to ease the tension in his muscles by inhaling and exhaling deeply. He knew what he had to say, he knew the words, he knew the consequences if he didn't say them but… but every time, every renewed discussion on this matter seemed harder than the previous and he wasn't certain how much more he could take.

"I-I can't…" he faltered, his tongue strangely parched and numb inside his mouth as he tried to form the sentence, to make it sound right. Resolute. Unyielding.

"Yes, you can!" Suddenly, Ichigo's hand now fully covered Toushiro's, making the boy's gaze snap back up with a modicum of horror deep inside the teal pools. "You can, just give me a chance-"

"You don't understand!" Hitsugaya shouted with something that vaguely resembled fear as he snatched his hand away from the gentle hold and jumped on his feet, his back now turned to the other male. A short silence hung between them, thick and palpable as cold resin. When Toushiro finally spoke again, his voice was incredibly soft, breakable, like a thin layer of ice that was threatening to crack any moment now. "You don't know… how wrong I am for you."

By now the growing frustration and irritation were beginning to get the best of Ichigo and he gritted his teeth, his hand that was still on the table clenching into a tight fist.

"Is this because you gave up on college? I don't care about that, Toushiro, I-"

A small bitter laugh tore from the boy's lips as he wrapped his arms around his waist, his shoulders hunching as though he was trying to protect his body from something.

"This has nothing to do with that."

"Then what is it! Tell me what-"

"Ichigo, _please_, just leave me alone**,**" the boy choked out, his voice brimming with such incredibly sincere desperation that Ichigo recoiled startled and watched as the object of his affection buried his fingers in his snowy hair. "If asking me out is the only reason you come here every morning… I suggest you just stop. For both our sakes. Stop coming here. Just…. Stop."

"Toushiro…" The carrot-top's hand reached for one of the dainty little wrists, but Hitsugaya pulled back just in time and dashed out through the café's back door, disappearing from sight and leaving a completely smitten and rejected strawberry behind him.

The café was suddenly completely silent and as Ichigo's gaze slid from where the boy had disappeared and glissaded briefly along the faces of the other customers, he realized that all stares were now locked on him – some sympathetic, some accusing – and he gathered his hands on top of one another on the table, turning to contemplate them with a mix of anger and hurt.

"Ichigo…" A gentle voice uttered above him and Matsumoto's hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing lightly in some sort of a meek attempt to give him comfort. "It's not that he doesn't like you-"

"I know that, Rangiku," he snapped, his scowl deepening with the anguish that swelled in his chest. "I don't get it, though… I don't understand." He swallowed with difficulty, his jaw clenching for a moment as he added. "It seems that he really wants me gone from his life."

Matsumoto sighed and withdrew her hand from him, her own shoulders drooping.

"He thinks he's doing you a favor." She whispered, her eyelids falling to cover half of her pale blue orbs. "But if you really do stop coming here… I don't know what it would do to him. He's changed so much since he met you… He smiles more... And no matter what he says, I know that every morning he anticipates your arrival."

"It doesn't change what he says though…"

Matsumoto paused, her brows furrowing for a moment as though she was in deep thought, then she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh my God, Ichigo! I have the greatest idea!"

The carrot-top looked up, suspicion twisting his features as he saw the strange glow of conspiracy on the woman's face.

"What do you have in mind?"

* * *

When Hitsugaya finally dragged himself to his apartment on the second floor of a building a few blocks from "Snow", all he could think about was having a quick shower and crawling under the covers. He felt more drained than usual, the frustrating sting of guilt gnawing at his insides with every move he made. A part of him wanted to never have to deal with this again, never to have to face Ichigo again**, **but… While his mind toldhim this was the only way, his heart clenched painfully at the thought. What if the carrot-top really didn't show up in the café again? What if today really _was_ the last time they saw each other?

He locked the door behind him and dropped the keys on the cupboard beside it, kicking his shoes off and making his way along the dark corridor, his right hand raising to rub against his brows. He headed straight to his small bedroom, turning the lights on and throwing his jacket to the nearest chair before collapsing facedown on the mattress. The scent of fresh flowers and water engulfed him, causing him to shiver with delight. The cool sheets felt emollient and soothing against his skin and he let himself get lost into the feeling, a tiny smile grazing his lips as he sighed with content.

_Ichigo…_

His relaxed brows furrowed into a frown, all traces of happiness peeling from his face as the name emerged with startling clearance in his head. He could remember the first day he had met the strawberry, like it was yesterday… It had been quite a busy day, with more customers than usual crowding the tables, and he and Rangiku had been going out of their ways to manage with all the orders. Toushiro hadn't been feeling well and the more people he had to attend, the slower and the clumsier he seemed to become.

When the bell on top of the door tolled for the umpteenth time that afternoon, the boy could barely see straight. He grabbed as many empty plates and glasses as he could from one of the tables and turned around to see who had entered, only to run straight into them. If the fatigue hadn't been getting the best of him, maybe Hitsugaya could've succeeded in keeping his balance, but not at that moment. Everything he had been carrying crashed on the floor at the man's feet, shreds of glass and porcelain flying in all four directions and causing the white-haired boy to jump back with a small yelp.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so, _so_ sorry," Toushiro mumbled, falling on his knees and beginning to gather the bigger pieces in his small hands.

"Hey, stop! You're going to cut yourself!" the man exclaimed**,** and a large hand shot forward, wrapping around Hitsugaya's narrow wrist, causing the latter to flinch and look up.

And that was it. At that second, at that very moment**,** the whole world collapsed, brought to pebbles and dust as Toushiro's jade orbs met the warm chocolate irises of the student crouching in front of him. The boy could not remember a time when he had blushed harder in his entire life. His hand started trembling uncontrollably and before he could realize what he was doing, he had involuntarily squeezed the sharp piece of glass he was holding. The small hiss of pain and the visible cringe made the taller male immediately let go and Hitsugaya dropped the shard, hefting his hand with its back downwards to see a generous amount of blood oozing abundantly from a gash that cut right across the whole length of the palm.

"Oh God…" Toushiro whispered weakly, blanching at the sight as his stomach lurched. He had never been able to withstand the sight of blood, not even his own, and at that moment, seeing the crimson liquid drip unhindered on the tiled floor nearly had him throwing up.

"Shit!" the man cursed, grabbing the boy's arm and pulling him to his shaky feet. "This looks bad."

"I-I'm fine," Hitsugaya stuttered, blinking his eyes shut in a vain attempt to chase the dizziness away as another arm was flung around his shoulders and suddenly he was being dragged toward the nearest table. The room tilted dangerously to the side, the walls throbbing and bending as though they were trying to break free from their confines and crush him. He could feel the hot moisture coiling around his hands, flowing between his fingers and trickling to the ground**,** and the sensation affected him like a blow to the head, blurring his vision and meddling with his balance. If he ignored the burning, stinging pain, if he didn't look at the wound, it really wasn't so bad, he tried to convince himself. It wasn't so bad, it wasn't-…

"Toushiro!" Matsumoto screeched, running by his side as the brown-eyed stranger settled him on a chair gently. "Ohmygodohmygod whatthehellhappened?"

"He's going to be alright," the man cut in, placing a small backpack on the table and beginning to rummage through it. "I'm studying medicine at the university, I can do first aid. No need for panic, just get him something sweet to eat and maybe a Coke? I think his blood pressure has dropped."

"Ay, ay!" Matsumoto saluted before dashing away at the speed of light, leaving the two alone.

"I'm-…" Hitsugaya tried**,** but his stomach lurched again**,** and he had to turn to the side to lean his forehead against the cold window in search of some mild relief. "Sorry…"

A small laugh rippled from across the table as he felt his hand being pulled towards the stranger with the chocolate eyes.

"I can't take your apology for real unless I know your name."

"Hitsugaya… written on the… badge…" the boy managed with difficulty, screwing his eyes shut again as he tried to steady his breathing.

"That's not the one. I want to know your first name." There was smile in the man's voice**.** A warm, genuine smile that seeped through Toushiro's skin and reached his bones, bringing a strange wave of alleviation to his protesting, frazzled body.

"Toushiro. Hitsugaya Toushiro."

"Kurosaki Ichigo," the med student replied as the smaller male felt something press against his wound to stop the bleeding. "What a greeting! I think I'm going to like this place."

As the last strings of the memory faded into distance, Toushiro barely contained himself from biting the pillow under his head with venom.

_You know you have to forget about him… Because if you don't…_

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, exhaustedly, and as he took the next deep breath in, the acceptance flew into his lungs along with the air, filling his chest with dull, bitter pain like nicotine plumes, slothfully poisoning his body. _It couldn't have turned out worse_. It couldn't have gone more wrong.

He should've taken a day off that distant Tuesday. He should've stayed at home with his favorite book, blissfully saving both of them the anguish, the misery, the stagnant, endless torment of never being able to be truthfully together. Or maybe if he hadn't taken so many glasses and plates all at once… Or if he hadn't run into Ichigo out of carelessness… Or cut himself that badly with those shreds... Or maybe, _maybe_… _Gods… _if he hadn't looked up and met those kind chocolate eyes, awash with so much warmth and tenderness...

Yes, maybe if he hadn't done at least… even _one_ of those things, then maybe… _Just maybe_… that Tuesday afternoon wouldn't have turned into the breaking, _crushing_, point of his young life. Because that day was exactly this: a knitted web of fatal threads, connected to bring the catastrophic result: two hearts, so close, so distant, so in love. So ill-fated…

Hitsugaya was beginning to drift to sleep without notice when a strange noise gritted against his sensitive hearing, making him shift uncomfortably and groan. He frowned, murmuring something to himself, and was just about to press the pillow to the side of his head to muffle the sounds, when recognition sank in and he jumped in a sitting position, all traces of sleepiness gone.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, scrambling off the bed and stumbling to the window to fling it back viciously. "Kurosaki! What the hell do you think you're doing!"

Two floors below, standing beside the opened door of his car, Ichigo beamed happily.

"I'm singing you a serenade!" he explained before shoving his head inside the automobile and turning up the volume of the song that was currently playing. Hitsugaya's face visibly adopted a pasty color, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as he surveyed the scene with shock and disbelief that forced a choking sound through his pale lips. The carrot-top merely grinned, waiting for the right moment of the melody before opening his mouth and catching up with the tune.

"_I can be you hero baby, I can kiss away the pain_!"

"STOP RIGHT THERE, KUROSAKI!" Hitsugaya yelled with horror and rapidly overwhelming embarrassment, as he leaned over the frame of the window and summoned the most earnest expression he could muster in hopes to pour some sense into the orange-haired man. Useless to say, his efforts proved to be thrown in vain as the taller male shook his head knowingly and continued, obviously very determined to show the whole neighborhood how incapable of singing he was.

"_I will stand by you forever, you can take my breath away!_"

"No, no, no, no, no! Stop, _stop_! What the hell is this all about!"

"Will you go out with me?" Ichigo shouted hopefully from his spot two floors below the other male and intertwined his fingers together in front of his body in the most sincerely imploring position possible. Hitsugaya pulled back, his shoulders drooping as he shook his head no. "That means you need a little more convincing… Dammit, I missed a whole verse… No problem, we'll play it all over if we have to."

"Kurosaki! You're going to get arrested for this!"

Ichigo grinned, shrugging carelessly**.**

"It'll be on your conscience, little one." He paused, taking a deep breath, and burst into the song again "_I just want to hold you… I just want to hold you._ _Am I in too deep? Have I lost my mind?_"

"You've definitely lost your fucking mind!" the pale youth choked out, burying his fingers into his snowy hair with terror as bright red color crawled up his neck.

"_Well I don't care, you're here tonight!_ Go out with me, Toushiro!"

"It's Hits- Are you insane!" Hitsugaya screamed when the carrot-top reached to turn the volume up again, causing the whole car to visibly vibrate with the loud music that was playing. The light in several windows above the boy's head turned on and some woman threatened to call the police (a statement which failed to catch the strawberry's attention).

"_I can be your hero baby!_ _I can kiss away the pain! _Give me one chance, Toushiro, one chance, or I'll spend the night here, singing till my throat runs raw or the cops come and get me. _I will stand by you forever. You can take my breath away_!"

Hitsugaya was at a loss. His cheeks were burning hot, his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to burst… He had absolutely no idea whether to cry or to laugh… But he somehow ended up doing the latter. _That's it!_

"I'll go out with you!" he shouted over the frame of the window, his clear, rippling chuckle pouring from his mouth bountifully, freely, smoothly. And once the words were out in the open, he felt light, airy like a downy morning cloud and he laughed harder. "I'll go out with you, Kurosaki!" he repeated, his heart making a joyful flip as a group of butterflies exploded in his stomach, tickling his insides and smothering the worries.

"You will?" Ichigo exclaimed, the look on his face like the one of a child who's been told that Christmas has arrived earlier. Hitsugaya nodded, blinking rapidly as he felt some strange sting against his eyes.

"Turn down the volume, stupid, I'm coming right down!" the boy shouted and disappeared inside the house. Grabbing his things as fast as he could, Toushiro wiped a single tear from the corner of his eye and rushed to the door before he could change his mind. _Not tonight, _he thought as he ran down the staircase, a small smile twisting his lips, _not tonight._

* * *

**_And finally, I'm not such a big fan of Enrique, but I asked a couple of people and they said: this is the song you need. So this is 'Hero' for you. :)  
_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Once again, big thanks to Amanda, my beta. :) You're the best!  
**_

**ATTENTION: DUE TO THE RULES OF THE SITE, I HAVE REMOVED A SCENE from this chapter so as to not cause problem with its CONTENT and I have placed said scene in LIVEJOURNAL.  
**

**__****Link to the story IN MY PROFILE PAGE or this:**  


**__********queenofcitrus(then you write a dot and 'livejournal') (then a dot) (then 'com/1692')(then a dot)(then 'html')**

**__****Please, support the petition to allow writers to have stories containing lemons - you will find the petition by googling 'petition to stop the destruction of fanfiction'**

**__****or... www(then dot)change(then dot)(then org)(then this /petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net)  
**

**__****Till then... I'm saving my stories pretty much. :3**

_**For the last time, MUCH drama coming round the corner, so really... whoever can't take it, leave. NOW! Don't say I didn't warn you.  
**_

* * *

**Part 2**

"Where are we going?" Hitsugaya asked half an hour later as he realized they were leaving the borders of Karakura, Ichigo's car evenly making a couple of turns til it was driving down a small, unlit road.

"It's a surprise," the strawberry retorted coyly, a small smirk pushing to burst on his face as he refused to remove his gaze from the windshield.

"Okay… Question number 2: Am I going to enjoy the surprise?"

At this point Ichigo openly laughed, glancing at the boy next to him for a second.

"Such a head-scratcher, i'n'it?"

"Ha." Hitsugaya commented dryly. "Maybe I should've just let them take you to jail for a couple of hours. That would've saved me the need to 'scratch' my head."

"Cheer up, grumpy, we're almost there."

"Almost where?" came Toushiro's incredulous inquiry as he nodded towards the dark way in front of them that seemed to be going straight through some abandoned field. "In the middle of nowhere?"

Ichigo shook his head condescendingly and pulled up to the side of the road, the engine still running as he turned the headlights off and looked at the boy beside him.

"You ok? You seem a bit uneasy." He paused, his soft smile fading away into a serious expression as he surveyed Hitsugaya's face. "Just because I drove you out of Karakura, it doesn't mean I'm going to hurt you. I won't put a finger on you if you don't want me to."

Toushiro nodded, looking down at his feet as a shy smile twisted his lips.

"I know that."

An almost imperceptible sigh of relief escaped Ichigo's lips as he turned to fiddle with the buttons on the car dashboard. With a small swishing sound the top of the cabriolet slid back and a gust of gelid wind penetrated the automobile, causing Toushiro to shiver slightly and pull his thin jacket tighter around his frame.

"Are you cold?"

"No, I'm fine."

Ichigo shook his head almost accusingly and pulled his own jacket off, dropping it over the boy's shoulder and effectively cutting off all protests that the other male tried to voice with one simple command:

"Look up."

Hitsugaya surveyed the carrot-top incredulously for a moment, suspicion smoldering in the depths of his eyes but seeing the encouraging smile, he carefully lifted his gaze. And the breath hitched in his throat.

"This is-"

"Astonishing?" Ichigo finished with a small chuckle as his own eyes followed the same pattern. "It was impossible to have a good view in Karakura because all of the lights, and the noise… But out here, it's a whole different story…"

Hitsugaya exhaled slowly, a white puffy stream leaving his mouth as he contemplated the endless blanket of blackness, studded with so many bright, jewel-like spots. He couldn't remember a time when he had admired a sky with such absorbing and enthralling depth that stretched on so many layers that every time his human eyes assumed they had reached the end, there was more underneath, more darkness, more light tearing it. There wasn't a single cloud to ruin this beauty, as the very last one had absconded after the morning rain; now it seemed like the night itself was opening up to him, welcoming him into its cold, yet alleviating embrace. Gazing up there in the unknown Toushiro felt small, but he also felt free,amazed_,__fascinated_, as he sensed, with hiswhole tiny, shivering being, thevast space that spread between him and the infinity.

"You know…" Toushiro whispered softly, as though if he raised his voice, the magic was going to break. "I was going to… I wanted to study astronomy after school. In the university."

A small pause hung between them as the white-haired youth adjusted the other one's jacket more comfortably around his shoulders, his jade eyes never once leaving the sky.

"You didn't make it?" Ichigo asked carefully. Hitsugaya's lips twisted into an ironic smile and he shook his head, a small bitter laugh tearing from deep inside his aching chest.

"Of course I made it. I could study in any university I wanted. But then-"

"Then what?"

"Then nothing**," **Toushiro susurrated. "I made a choice. And I don't regret it."

"You don't?"

"No. Life is too short to spend it learning how to see things, instead of just… seeing them. And… think about it this way: if things had gone otherwise, I probably wouldn't be here now, watching the stars with you, would I?" Toushiro turned his head to look at Ichigo and smiled. But there was so much sadness in the boy's eyes, so much grief and so much resignation, that the med student found his throat dry and his tongue heavy as he bore the gaze.

"It's strange, isn't it?" the carrot-top uttered, shifting his orbs to the sky above them.

"What is?"

"The stars. That they'll always be there, and they'll always be shining, no matter what. No matter what happens to us."

Hitsugaya bit his lower lip but decided not to tell Ichigo that this was far from true. Or that some of the stars they were admiring at this very moment had long been dead and it was just their last farewell brilliance, their racing blaze that was only now reaching their planet.

Toushiro slumped into his seat and wrapped his arms around his body, fighting down the stressed out frown that threatened to break on his face.

_Even the mighty fall, even the mighty perish, so what can be said about the rest of us?_

"You hungry?"

Toushiro snapped back to reality, his eyes blinking with surprise at the question. Ichigo just grinned cunningly before reaching behind his seat to pull out a bulging paper bag and two sets of wooden sticks.

"I hope you like eating Chinese food in the open?" the carrot-top enunciated, wriggling his brow in much too question-like manner as he gazed apprehensively at the other male. Hitsugaya pursed his lips to suppress the little guffaw that was threatening to tear from his mouth at Ichigo's expression, but managed to nod his head yes and reached for his share of the dinner.

They spent the next hour or so consuming the food (oh, yes, eating Chinese food in the open proved to be quite a pleasurable experience) and talking about everything that happened to make its way from the bottoms of their minds, down the meandering paths of thoughts and out their mouths. It was slightly peculiar how their voices were the only things cutting through the silent loneliness of the night**,** but while in any other case it would've made either of the boys feel like intruders in the holy grounds of the uncharted wild, tonight no barriers – formal or material ones – seemed to stand firmly enough in their way. Toushiro found himself strangely at ease as he listened to Ichigo's hilarious stories about high school, and college and his apparently downright crazy family. The white-haired boy himself wasn't one to open up this quickly but it seemed so easy with the carrot-top, so right. And so he spoke – about his early life, about the café, about Matsumoto, about pretty much everything… except one thing. Because this one thing, this one fact was the very same problem he was trying to run away from. Tonight. Every night. _Every fucking minute._

"Hey, Toushiro, look! A falling star!" the carrot-top suddenly exclaimed and the boy's head snapped in the pointed direction, successfully catching the view of the dying light's blazing trail. "Quick, make a wish!"

"Are out of your-"

"Ack! For crying out loud, humor me for once and just do it!"

Making an annoyed grimace, Hitsugaya followed the taller male's example and closed his eyes wearily, his lips barely moving as he formulated his wish in his head.

"There." He commented several seconds later as his ivory lids lifted, revealing a slightly exaggerated browned off expression to the flashy-haired youth behind the stirring wheel. "Happy now?"

Ichigo grinned and let his empty carton of Chinese food fall into the paper bag that he was keeping behind his seat.

"What did you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it's not going to come true." Toushiro teased, a coy smile twisting his lips as he proceeded to stuff the last remains of his meal into his mouth with the help of the wooden sticks. Ichigo merely rolled his eyes.

"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours." He suggested conspiratorially as he arched his brows in an unambiguous offer. Hitsugaya snorted, his eyes still fixed on the bottom of the carton he was holding as he poked around in it aimlessly for a few moments before replying:

"What if I'm not interested?"

"Ah, wouldn't that be a shame… Because it has something to do with you."

Toushiro's ears instantly perked up and he glanced at the taller male with the corner of his eye.

"I'm listening…" he drawled, his chin lifting a little and Ichigo bit his lower lip to suppress a laugh as he nodded in the boy's direction.

"You have something on your face." The carrot-top taunted and Hitsugaya's eyes widened, a small blush dusting across his cheeks as he slapped his hand to the side of his mouth, searching blindly for any traces of food.

"Where?"

Ichigo was laughing pretty hard by now, his guffaw only causing the smaller male's sides to grow a deeper shade of scarlet as the tiny, yet slender white fingers felt around the pale skin in search for some flaws.

"Here." The carrot-top said, waving his hand around his chin indefinitely and causing a low growl of frustration to emit from the boy's lips.

"Dammit, Kurosaki, _where_!"

"Not there anyway."

"You're not helping, just-…UGH! WILL YOU STOP LAUGHING AND GIVE ME A HAND HERE! WHERE! WHE-"

"Right here**,"** Ichigo murmured and suddenly his lips were pressed firmly against Toushiro's smaller ones. Hitsugaya's eyes snapped wide open and he froze, a small yelp-like sound tearing from his chest as his suddenly very empty head tried to comprehend what was happening. _So soft… so… warm… _

The kiss was very shy, very careful, ending way too soon for either of the two's liking and when Kurosaki's mouth distanced itself from Toushiro's, the boy's lungs seemed to halt their function and all he could think about, all he could _feel_ was the desperate need to have this feeling back.

"Too much?" the carrot-top uttered, his eyes fluttering open to look at the white-haired boy before him, brows furrowed with sincere concern. "Because if it is-"

"Shuddap."

Ichigo barely had the time to gasp as he was suddenly pushed back in his seat and a warm body pressed against his, a pair of smooth lips brushing teasingly over his.

"You know what I wished for?" Hitsugaya sibilated, his breath burning wantonly on the other one's flesh as the boy adjusted himself more comfortably in the carrot-top's lap, one slim thigh on either side of the taller male's waist and spindly arms wrapped possessively around Kurosaki's neck. No sound came as the strawberry merely shook his head no, chocolate eyes gazing deep into the seemingly luminescent jade ones in a sad attempt to fathom the sudden switch of the roles. "I wished for you to stop calling me 'Toushiro' but I guess it's not going to come true after all…"

Then their mouths crushed together again, hot wet tongues pushing against each other with sinful greed, with a breath-taking need for more as their lips molded in synchrony, shaping into something complete, something wrong, yet so, _so_ perfect. Soft moans ripped through the silence of the night, clawing into its thick, uncorrupted peace, scraping against the very laws of nature as a far more dreadful wrongdoing than any unsuccessfully muffled scream of debauchery. Fingers dug under every rift in the fabric they could find, and hands felt, and touched and tugged until it became too much, until the thin layer of air between them grew unbearably, insufferably fervent…

_Stop, stop, STOP! _a small, panicking voice inside Hitsugaya's head screeched but the boy shoved the intruder back with ease, pulling back just enough to look at the other male's eyes.

"Your place?" he lipped ardently. Ichigo hiccuped audibly in response, causing the other to smirk knowingly.

"Are you serious?"

Biting his lower lip with a half-muffled groan, Toushiro rolled his hips forward gently, giving the other male a very vague idea of just how aroused he was.

"My place is perfect**,**" Ichigo managed with a small voice, nodding a bit too eagerly and causing the boy to laugh out loud before sliding off of the carrot-top's lap swiftly.

* * *

How could one's kisses feel so tender and so burning, so _scorching_ hot at the same time? And how could touches so light and soft make you sigh contentedly in one moment, then pant with need in the next and, _and_-… Toushiro gasped, arching his back as his fingers dug into the mattress, twisting the sheets with a mix of demand and desperation that could've brought Ichigo on his knees, if he weren't already there, hovering over his lover's naked body, sucking and licking every bit of skin he could find.

"K-kuro-saki-"

A low groan bubbled in the smaller male's chest as he felt his partner hum against the bruise that he had just created on the boy's pulse, before making his way down Hitsugaya's heavily rising and falling chest. Toushiro's breath hitched in his throat as two hands landed on his knee caps and slowly, gently, pushed his legs wide apart, exposing him to Ichigo's intense gaze in the most intimate way possible. _What am I doing? _Whimpering helplessly when a slightly cooler waft of air grazed his twitching erection, the white-haired youth buried his fingers in the outrageous orange mane below him and tugged lightly in a sad attempt to make the other one look away from his most private parts.

"Stoppit…"

"Stop what?" Ichigo inquired absently as he slid his palms up the slim tights before coming to a halt around the smaller one's hips and proceeding to take a firm hold on the protruding bones on either side.(...)

* * *

**_Missing scene can be found in my LJ account. Links are in my author notes and profile page._**

* * *

(...)"Come here…" Hitsugaya mumbled sleepily and the strawberry exhaled with relief, quickly following the order and wrapping his arms around the small body. "I hope you don't snore."

Ichigo all but chuckled, pressing his lips against the sweat dewed forehead for a moment before sinking back into the pillow comfortably.

"I'm counting on you to tell me in the morning."

* * *

The rustling of clothes was so soft that it was a miracle that Ichigo woke up at all. Maybe he did so because it wasn't the noise that snapped him back from his tranquil, hazy world of dreams, but the sudden loss of the warm body, breathing peacefully in perfect synchrony with his.

"Hmm?" Ichigo's eyes fluttered open and he lifted his lead-like hand to smooth his brows with his thumb and index finger, the wavering room around him falling into place piece by piece. The small movement in the foot of the bed caught his attention and he propped himself on his elbow with effort to take a better look. "Hey… what are you doing?"

Hitsugaya, clad only in a pair of unbuttoned jeans, froze in his way of gathering his clothes from the floor and turned to look at the taller male, all blood withdrawing from his face.

"K-kurosaki…" he whispered, hurrying to stand up straight, the pile of attire hugged tightly, almost protectively to his chest. "I was just-…"

"'Kurosaki?'" The carrot-top repeated, frowning slightly as he sat up completely in the bed and draped one arm over his bent knees casually. "And what happened with 'Ichigo'?"

The room fell silent, the last question, as lightly as it had been asked, oscillating palpably in the air between them like a delicate warning for what was to follow. Toushiro's lips were clamped shut, his disheveled hair falling in thick locks into his eyes, and his face looked pasty, colorless even, as he struggled to hold the other bloke's mildly baffled gaze. He failed, almost too quickly, and averted his face, shaking his head a little as his thin shoulders drooped with the invisible weight of the guilt that threatened to crush him. Ichigo's orbs widened at the sight and he felt this mouth gape with disbelief as his hand shot to his orange tuft of hair, fingers grasping the roots.

"You can't be serious!" he whispered, surveying the boy up and down incredulously. "You gotta be _fuckin'_ kidding me!"

"This is not-" Hitsugaya tried but his feeble attempt was cut short as the carrot-top's dry, humorless laughter rang around the room, striking hard, right into the white-haired youth's barely beating heart.

"You were going to sneak out, weren't you?" Ichigo inquired, sliding off the bed and grabbing his boxers to put on. "Well, too bad that I woke up to spoil your little plan. I want an explanation."

"I tried to tell you so many times…" Toushiro said, stepping back as his lips twisted into a painfully uneven line. "You and me: this isn't going to work."

"And what the hell makes you think that, huh?" Ichigo retaliated, hands clenching into frustrated fists by his sides. The firm denial in his eyes was piercing, almost aggressive and it seemed to grow stronger with every tick of the clock, making Hitsugaya shrink under the grip of some crushing inner agony.

"I have to go." The boy choked out before spinning on his heel and dashing through the door into the other room. The carrot-top gave up a small growl but followed the other male anyway, only to find him in the living-room engulfed in struggles to throw his clothes on as quickly as possible.

"You said last night meant something to you!" Ichigo insisted, standing between the boy and the front door, a look of painful determination plastered on his face as he watched his-… his-… _fuck it!..._ his _lover_ show such admirable hastiness in his resolution to abscond from the carrot-top's apartment as though the place was the scene of some horrible crime.

Yes… Such a hurry, the taller male thought with woe, his head tilting to the side and teeth aching with the strength with which he was clenching his jaw. _Such a goddamn hurry, ne, Toushiro? Wanna get out of here? Wanna run? Well, not today. _

"Don't you pretend you didn't hear me!" Ichigo barked, his eyes narrowing as every inch of pale flesh was gradually being concealed, fabric after crumpled fabric wrapping around the small body as if in some wicked zeal to put layers of whatever to keep them apart. It was peculiar how slow everything seemed to look from Kurosaki's point of view though, how abundant the details were… Just one more button, one more top, one more way to hide…

"I didn't lie!" Hitsugaya claimed, fingers shakily trying to smooth his attire, to fix the hems and lapels; anything that would make him feel a little less depraved, a little more decent. "It was true – it was all true, everything I said and you have no idea-…" his voice broke and he pressed the base of his palms to his brows, his chest rising and falling unsteadily as he fought to regain his composure. When he spoke again, his words were barely above whisper, quivering slightly with the desperation that oozed from them in giant, sweeping waves. "Why-… why do you have to make this so much harder than it already is?"

Ichigo exhaled slowly through his nose, his anger and refusal bubbling inside his gut with every passing moment and before he knew it he was in front of the smaller male, squeezing his arm into a vice-like grip that had the boy wincing with pain.

"What are you hiding?" he hissed, his frustration getting the best of him as he pulled Toushiro against him, their faces just inches apart from one another. "You're either keeping something from me, or you're just a goddamn brilliant actor, so which is it?"

"I'm being honest to you, but there is so much that I can't tell you!" the boy whispered, his jade eyes wide with apprehension as he shook his head and added softly "Please, just-… just let me go, let me go home…"

"Not until I get some answers."

"Gods, Kurosaki, last night was so wrong… a terrible mistake that I shouldn't have allowed to happen. I'm begging you to forget all about it…"

Ichigo's jaw clenched for a moment, a strange shadow falling on his face as his grip around the boy tightened, pain twisting his tan features so openly that Hitsugaya's heart skipped a beat.

"Is this how it's going to be?" the carrot-top whispered "You throw me a bone, see if I catch it and the next day you pretend that nothing's ever happened."

Toushiro's breath hitched in his throat and he shook his head frantically, a look of shock and fear flitting across his face.

"N-no!" he uttered imploringly, helplessly. "It's not like that!"

"Really? Maybe I should be grateful, then? For being so lucky as to get a one friggin night-stand with the all-famous Hitsugaya Toushiro, huh?"

The cruel words struck the boy like a punch in the gut and a small, choking sound left his lips, desperation ripping every bit of strength that he had left.

"Ichigo… Ichigo, don't do this… You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Then tell me, dammit! Tell me! What _is _it? If I am so unworthy of you, why don't you just fucking say so?"

"Don't-… Don't make me!"

"Don't make you do what? Don't make you do _what_ exactly? Act like a normal human being and not like the emotionless selfish-"

"Oh, Gods, I-I'm _sick_!" Hitsugaya blurted, screwing his eyes shut and when nothing but shocked, thick silence answered his statement, he added weakly: "I'm very, _very_ sick, Ichigo."

The grasp was gone in a heart-beat and Toushiro gave up a small sob, his arms wrapping around his body protectively as he refused to meet the chocolate orbs that he just _knew_ were now staring at him with terrified confusion.

"What do you mean?" came the wavering question.

"Exactly what I said. Why do you think I gave up on university?" Hitsugaya whispered, his voice returning bit by bit. "It was just such a waste of time… Pointless waste of time for someone in my situation…" He paused to let out a dry little huff. "Ironic, isn't it? You should've guessed a long time ago… After all, you're aiming to be a doctor some day, aren't you?"

Ichigo swallowed with difficulty, his throat clenching with denial as he took a small step back.

"What do you have?"

A short humorless laughter tore from the boy's lips as he met the empty chocolate eyes with his own suddenly very calm, and just a little bit sympathetic, teal ones.

"Does it really matter? It's not contagious, and it's not curable either… I'm dying, Ichigo. Do you think I give a fuck about the name of whatever's killing me? I'm trying to forget it every single day, for crying out loud…"

"How much time do you have left?" the carrot-top choked out and Toushiro smiled mirthlessly in response.

"A year. Fourteen months at most." He paused to pick up his jacket and press it to his chest. "Do you understand now? Do you understand why I didn't want to get involved with you? Why there's no future for the two of us, no matter how much we try or how much we long for it?"

"Toushiro-" Ichigo tried but a tiny finger pressed to his lips, shutting him up as the boy stepped forward.

"Please, don't say anything." He whispered, a thin layer of moisture covering his eyes as he looked up at the taller one. "Don't ruin this. I want this memory. I want to think of you, to grasp on this night we had together when the time comes and I…" his voice faded and he didn't finish his sentence, the truth hanging between them like a deathly loop, swinging in anticipation. Hitsugaya sighed then, his features softening and stood on his tiptoes to press his lips to the pair of ones before him. Ichigo's eyes fluttered shut and he lifted his trembling arm to touch this-… this-…

Nothing.

Because just as sudden as the kiss was there, Hitsugaya was gone, the front door shutting softly behind him.

* * *

**_A/N: What did I say about drama?_**

**__****__****____****Link to the missing scene (can also be found in my profile page): ****__********queenofcitrus(then you write a dot and 'livejournal') (then a dot) (then 'com/1692')(then a dot)(then 'html')**  


**_Now, be good and review. Because you're not getting another quick update otherwise! Yes, this is a threat.  
_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews! To say I was touched would be an understatement, which is why I sincerely hope I will not disappoint you with this update._** :) **_Thanks so much to my beta, Amanda. Be nice, review (but don't flame) and as soon as I have the last part beta-ed, I'll be posting it. Deal? Hope so..._**

**_Oh, yes. The drama. Much drama. This is a warning.  
_**

* * *

**Part 3**

"This is too much, Toushiro, I've had enough. I can't take it anymore."

Hitsugaya looked up from where he had been occupying a chair behind the counter and eyed the woman with very little interest.

"You can't take what?" he asked, his hoarse voice making Matsumoto cringe and shake her head sympathetically.

"You look terrible."

"I look worse than I feel."

"Or you feel worse than you look?" she questioned, raising an inquisitive brow as she put her hands on her hips in a sort of threatening pose. He merely rolled his eyes with an exaggeratedly browned off sigh and turned his head to the side, knowing that any arguments would be thrown in vain. He understood Matsumoto's concern – he would've acted the same way as her if he were in her shoes but nevertheless there was nothing that he wanted more right now than to have her leave him alone.

Ironically enough, Toushiro's little stunt with the carrot-top a week ago had taken its toll on him not only emotionally, but also physically. He didn't even want to mentally depict the reflection he had spotted in the mirror this morning as it made him wince like he'd seen a ghost (which, honestly, wasn't all that far from the truth). The shadows under his eyes were a deep, outstanding shade of blue, his orbs seeming both duller in color and somehow bigger, more vivid with their glassy, moist surface, while the rest of his face was horribly pale, thin, the bones more protruding than usual.

Hitsugaya snorted under his breath, the muscles of his shoulders tensing up for a moment as he recalled the shock that he had experienced at the sight of the person, a layer of glass away from him. No matter how many times he blinked or how much he poked the little bags under his orbs or grazed the projecting jaw-lines and cheekbones, the distortion mimicked each and every one of his movements. Along with every flicker of murky emotion in the turquoise pools.

Another snort, this time a little more audible. Why was he surprised anyway? What had he been expecting? He hadn't been able to get much sleep ever since the infamous incident and despite his sincere desire to move on and forget, every day without Ichigo's presence in the café was like another sulfurous needle, piercing through his heart. He was ashamed of what had been happening to him – how this loss was corroding him from the inside, hour after hour. He had promised himself – himself and everybody else that he cared about – that he would not give up without a fight, he would not let the sickness have him easily…

Yet he was feeling dead enough already.

"Go home, Toushiro." Matsumoto whispered, kneeling in front of him and placing her hands on his knees imploringly. "You're barely standing, just go and get some rest."

"I had the whole night to rest." He retaliated, summoning a very faint phantom of his usual scowl on his face. "I'm just doing my job, Rangiku."

"You're doing nothing other than torturing yourself. I know you. You're feeling guilty for allowing yourself to let go for once-"

"You don't _understand_."

"Understand? What don't I understand? How can you know that you-" she paused, her lower lip trembling a little. "-That you have only _this_ much time left and not allow yourself to be happy?"

"Because it's not fair." He replied softly, his eyes following his own hand as he reached up to run his fingers through her hair gently, almost comfortingly. "It's selfish and wrong."

"Gods, Toushiro… How can you say that?"

"Because I led him on, Rangiku," he whispered, his voice cracking a little at the end as he dropped his hand and shut his eyes tightly. In a heart-beat, Matsumoto's fingers were on his cheek, caressing the pale skin with anxious, fearful tenderness and coaxing him pleadingly to look at her. Toushiro merely shook his head and pulled away from her touch, hastily burying his face into his palms as if in an attempt to hide from everything that was the forsaken reality surrounding him. "I knew the consequences…" he uttered almost imperceptibly as the tips of his digits tangled in his hair. "Yet… yet I did it anyway. Imagine what he must think of me now…"

"He thinks he's a jackass that deserves to have his nose punched." A familiar voice butted in, making the two waiters freeze. Suddenly, the air around the room grew palpably thick, like liquid that was both lukewarm and searing hot, and as Hitsugaya lifted his face from his cupped palms to find the source, his mere movements seemed somewhat labored.

"Kurosaki…" he uttered, hands dropping in his lap and a soft shine enlightening the depths of his orbs as he eyed the taller male that was currently standing a couple of meters away from him. A sad smile twisted the carrot-top's lips and he nodded uneasily, shifting his weight to his other foot, his hands worming their ways into his pockets.

"Hey." Ichigo greeted, pausing for a moment before taking a timid step forward. "Are you ok? You don't look so good…" his voice trailed off as he noticed the faint flicker in Hitsugaya's orbs fade away as the boy averted his gaze with a sigh.

More thickness in the atmosphere, more awkwardness… There was no happy outcome from this conversation, no loophole, no nothing… yet the strawberry was still standing here. Like it would make a difference. Like it would turn Toushiro into something more than the rapidly melting candle that he already represented.

"I'll leave you two alone,"Matsumoto murmured half-heartedly and stood up, disappearing behind the counter in a second. Once she was gone, Hitsugaya breathed out softly and stood from his chair, arms wrapping around his waist as he looked up at the carrot-top with regret. His shoulders were slouched slightly under the thin white shirt of his uniform, and his whole stance seemed somewhat defensive, making his otherwise not particularly imposing frame appear even smaller.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears that stung at his tired, sleepless eyes. "I should've told you the first time you asked me out… But I liked you so much, I didn't want to deal with losing your company. I didn't-… I didn't want you to treat me differently just because I'm a fucking sand-glass."

Ichigo stood there, terribly dumbstruck for a moment, then suddenly he was crossing the few meters of space between them. Hitsugaya flinched with shock as he felt a pair of arms wrap around his frame, pulling him close to the bigger, warmer body and enshrouding him with a sense of security that had his eyes watering even more.

"How can _you_ be apologizing to _me_?" the carrot-top whispered, nuzzling the white crown of hair on the boy's head. "I should be the one begging for your forgiveness. For all the things I said to you and for-… for taking this long to sort out my feelings."

"I-I don't understand-"

"I want to be with you, Toushiro. I don't care about how much time you have left, I'll take it, if you take me."

Something inside the boy ripped at that statement and his hands were before him in a heart-beat, pushing with panic against the solid chest.

"No!" Hitsugaya exclaimed with horror, finally breaking free from the embrace. The rejected expression on the taller one's face did little to soften him up as he staggered backwards, desperate to put some distance between them. "You don't know what you're saying! The only reason why you're telling me this is because you feel bad for me and-and I'll _not_ have your pity, I-I… I _can't_ have your pity."

"Pity? You think this is why I'm standing here right now?" Ichigo asked, a dry chuckle ripping from his lips. "Toushiro, I had a whole week to think his over! Go through the denial, and the desire to just throw you out of my heart… everything. I am not delusional, nor am I doing this out of compassion." His ran a hand through his spiky hair restlessly and any remains of the bitter smile he had been sporting faded, replaced by determination. "I know what I want. And that is you – you above all people – and I will not take 'no' for an answer."

Hitsugaya stood there, contemplating the man before him with something that could only be defined as disbelief and shook his head, spinning on his heel abruptly.

"I'm not having this conversation." He choked out, reaching secretly to wipe the moisture that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. "I have work to do."

And with that he rounded the counter and headed for the main part of the café, only to be stopped when a hand wrapped around his wrist gently, bashfully, stopping him in his track. Toushiro swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat but didn't turn around to face the carrot-top, too afraid that his feeling were going to outwit them once again over the span of 8 days time. He knew what he had to do. He needed to tug his hand out of the feeble grasp, walk away, and, _and stay_ away.

…And why, damn it, _why_ couldn't he do just that? Make it easy for both of them?

_Because… 'Easy' ceased being an option for us long ago…_

…So many eyes watching. He closed his own, blocking the dozen tables of clients that were contemplating the scene with oh-too-obvious meddlesomeness.

"Not now, Kurosaki." The boy mumbled. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled up as the soft sound of Ichigo's steps closing the distance between them bounced from the tiles beneath their feet.

"There isn't really enough time to delay." The carrot-top's hands slid on the pair of narrow shoulders before him, prompting the boy gently to turn around. Toushiro's eyelids lifted ever so slowly and he shook his head, spinning to face the taller male with something in the distressed twists of his mouth that faintly resembled the urgency to get away.

"There's nothing you can say to make me change my mind." The boy stated evenly, but Ichigo just smiled softly in response.

"Toushiro-"

"It's Hitsugaya."

The carrot-top paused, the intense look in his eyes barely hinting on what was going on in his head as he gazed at the smaller male before him like there was no one beside the two of them in the entire world. When he spoke again there was such sincere _surrender_, such resignation in his voice that one would think that he had no choice but to do what he was doing:

"I'm in love with you."

The whole café fell silent at that confession, this including Toushiro and the currently widely gaping Matsumoto (who was standing with an empty cup of coffee in her hands a couple of meters away from the duo). The boy had gone completely immobile, much like someone who had just been shot in the chest with a poisonous paralyzing dart, the pair of widened teal eyes the only thing that proved that he had actually heard the statement. A lonely encouraging whistle sounded in the distance but even _that_ didn't seem to snap Hitsugaya out of his daze. He remained frozen on spot and absolutely speechless, not a single muscle on his face moving to imply on what he was thinking and as the seconds ticked by and no reaction was shown whatsoever, Ichigo found himself growing more and more uneasy. He arched his brows in a silent inducement, his heart-rate accelerating dramatically along with the need to grab the smaller male and shake him as his own desperate attempts to try and convince himself that this was _not_ a bad sign failed one after the other.

"Toushiro… Did you hear what I just said?"

"Oh, Gods…" the boy uttered, his lips barely moving as his face adopted a pasty color. "I think a couple of precious days of life just flew out of the window. What the hell was that, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo stumbled backwards, reeling a little in shock as he surveyed the white-haired youth with confusion, disbelief and a tad bit of hurt.

"Wha-… Toushiro, I just told you I loved you!" he insisted clamorously, bringing his hands in front of his body with the palms upturned imploringly. The carrot-top's gaze didn't have the needed effect though and despite the way his whole being seemed to be begging to be understood – _Why are you being like this?_- it wasn't excitement that settled on the boy's face, but a shadow of frustration that had him gritting his teeth for a moment.

"And I heard that but-… but so what? _Now_ what? This is no fairy tale and I will not just magically get better because you told me this." He paused, pressing his lips into a thin line as he shook his head and added a bit more softly, "You _think_ you love me, that's great. Very flattering. But what do you expect-… what do you _want-_… from me?"

A small dry chuckle ripped from the strawberry's lips and suddenly Ichigo had snatched the boy's hand, locking it between his own as the ghost of irony ebbed from his face and he added earnestly.

"I want you to marry me."

Matsumoto dropped the cup she was holding with a large bang, almost stuffing her fingers in her mouth with shock as her bulging eyes shifted from her small friend to the orange-haired youth, and back. Someone made a comment about a reality soap opera being organized intentionally for the café's visitors to enjoy, but the man was quickly hushed down by another person as all ears perking up in hopes to detect some answer from Toushiro's side. Instead, a strange sound – something between a humorless laughter and a choke rose in the boy's chest, his free hand shooting up to press against his brows.

"I think I need to sit down. I think _you_ need to do so as well." He pointed out, tugging himself out of the taller one's grip and making a move to the nearest empty table only to be grabbed by the wrist again, this time more firmly.

"Do you want me to kneel?" Ichigo inquired, arching both brows challengingly. "I'll fuckin' do that and beg if that's what will get you to take me seriously."

"You think public humiliation will do the trick? Gee, wouldn't you figure!"

"It doesn't hurt to try." The carrot-top shrugged, his frown deepening a bit. "And right now I'm ready to do practically everything to make you believe I don't want to just play house with you, I want-… I want everything I can get. For as long as I can get it."

"Kurosaki-" Hitsugaya began tiredly but was cut off as the taller one dropped on his knees, one hand pressed to his chest artistically. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you idiot?"

"Exactly what I said. Now, will you, Hitsugaya Toushiro, grant me the honor of marrying me?"

"Kurosaki-"the boy groaned between clenched teeth as he tried to pull himself out of the other one's tight grasp with little success. "For your sake and mine, _please_ come back to your senses!"

_Come back to my senses?_

A loud grunt of vexation escaped the other male's lips as he shook his head, squeezing the small hand between his own a bit harder.

"Why the hell do you think I came here in the first place?" the carrot-top asked, arching a brow. "There's no time to waste on ponders and arguments. I thought this over-"

"You've thought _nothing_ over!" the boy rebuffed, a glint of sorrow flashing in his aqua eyes. "Do you have the slightest idea what you want to get yourself into?"

"Yes! Yes, dammit, it is _you_ who doesn't seem to understand anything! And what _is _there to understand anyway? I love you and I want to be with you! So marry me!" Ichigo exclaimed, his chocolate orbs darkening with determination as he locked his resolute gaze with Toushiro's slightly baffled one.

And waited. _Waiting… _For the 'yes' that wasn't meant to come.

Hitsugaya's features visibly softened under the intense look and he lowered his own eyes, an almost imperceptible sigh ripping from his chest.

"I can't. You know that."

"Yes, you can! And I will not go until I get you to agree."

"Kurosaki, it's _always_ going to be 'no'…" Toushiro paused, a small bitter smile twisting his lips as he added more softly. "I will not have you watch me die."

_Death. Utter the word and it makes it sound so real, so close. _

Ichigo paused, standing up from the floor, and fetched the boy's other hand, keeping them together before Toushiro and himself. It was quite a peculiar contrast really - the thin pale flesh of the one who was meant to fade away against the tanned skin of the healthy, strong man with a long future before him.

Incompatible didn't even begin to describe it...

"What makes you think that by refusing me now you'll prevent me from watching you go?" Ichigo mumbled earnestly, his thumb caressing the smaller male's knuckles gently as he noticed Hitsugaya flinch at the statement. "You know me, little one. I'll spend every spare second I have in this place just to be with you. I'll count the days with you, and I'll hope for a miracle with you, and when the time comes I _will _be there, by your side, to hold you and tell you it's going to be ok. What you say today will not change a thing, no matter how much you push me away, no matter how much you try to complicate things." He paused, taking a deep breath and added with a soft mirthless chuckle "Who do you think you're saving, Toushiro? You, me, your conscience? What you're doing is a pointless act of martyrdom… You're destroying the only good path that we can take in this situation and sooner or later you'll realize it."

A small choking sound left the boy's lips and he snapped his right hand back, covering his mouth as he fought down the emotions that were threatening to drown him.

"Gods, Ichigo… Can't you see that I'm a dead weight for you?" he whispered shakily "Can't you just go and leave all of this behind!"

"Then look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me."

Hitsugaya's eyes snapped up, a look of vulnerability washing over his face as the meaning of the words reached his mind.

"It doesn't matter-"

"Just say it." Ichigo cut the boy off, nodding with such pain-filled encouragement that Toushiro's heart clenched. "If you really want me out of your life, go on and say it. I'll understand. And I'll leave you be once and for all."

And that was it. That was the moment. To tell Ichigo he didn't have feelings for him meant putting an end to whatever it was that they had, and for good. No more worrying, guilt… No more Kurosaki… _No nothing_. He could go on, filling his empty shell of a life with just as empty activities as he waited for the illness to get him. He would go quietly then, surrendering as the predetermined loser to the little hide and seek game he and death had been playing for a while now… and that would be that.

_That would be that._

He tried to force himself to look away from the expectant chocolate orbs that gazed right back at him, but it was no use. He couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't find his voice to speak, nor his lungs to breathe. He was trapped and the choice was hanging mockingly before him, ripping his heart apart with every second that he spent in silence.

_Lie. It's the only way. _The only way… the only way to what? To what was right?

What _was _right?

He tried to swallow the hard, icy lump that had formed in his throat but failure was awaiting that attempt around the corner. Instead, he felt even more pressured, suffocating pitifully as the uncertainty, the lack of answers crushed him under their weight...

"It's an easy task, Toushiro." Ichigo's voice coaxed him patiently. "Nothing that you say will change the way I feel about you, but… I have to know."

The café was gravely silent, all stares fixed on the couple and as Hitsugaya let out a small broken sob and ripped himself out of the taller one's grasp, the place itself seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. After what seemed like a century of waiting, the soft murmur in which the boy's words left his lips bounced off the walls like a mountain echo, reaching every pair of perked up ears.

"I give up. I can't do this anymore," Toushiro said, his lips barely twisting in a sort of a rueful smile as he lifted his arms ever so slightly in a wordless acceptance. "I'm yours, Ichigo… Do with me as you please."

The "I love you" was there; floating along with the melancholic resignation in the depths of the turquoise pools and he didn't need to voice it, for the carrot-top already knew. In a heart-beat, the taller male was standing before Toushiro, one finger hooked under the boy's chin as he wheedled him to look up with the gentlest push.

"Does this mean-"

"I will marry you. And _Que sera, sera_. No regrets," Hitsugaya whispered with an idle lift of his shoulders. A large grin broke on the flashy-haired male's face as he leaned forward to capture the boy's lips into a kiss.

An explosion of applause swirled around them but neither of the two noticed.

Toushiro couldn't help but think there was a bitter taste to the otherwise sweet kiss. _A year, _he though, trying to wrench himself out of his worries' stinging clutch, _A year is a long time. _

Deep inside, they both knew that a year would never be enough. That enough alone would never be enough.

Ironically, they didn't even have that year... They only had eleven months.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N:Well, this is the last part. WARNING: Unbetaed. I haven't heard from my beta for more than a month now. So it was either this or more wait.  
_**

**_Also, I apologize if it wasn't original enough for you. I tried to express all the drawbacks of this relationship and all the good things about it and I don't know whether I succeeded. It's a pretty long chapter, also..._**

**_The song I used is "My Body Is a Cage" by Peter Gabriel. I suggest you listen to it, because the words mean nothing without the voice of the performer and the melody. So do play it when the right moment comes, ok? Ok.  
_**

**_I apologize if there're parts that are lame or too far-fetched. Sorry. If you don't like, just don't say anything, k?  
_**

* * *

**Part 4**

From that day on everything happened so quickly that Toushiro didn't even realize what was going on till he found himself unpacking at Ichigo's place. The apartment was much bigger than he remembered it to be, probably because he hadn't paid all that much attention to the surroundings during his first visit. It was a lot vaster than his own flat, lighter, mirthful even. The bedroom was painted a pale shade of blue, all furniture in matching colors and the bed itself was big enough to have two people losing themselves under the covers…

_Or doing something else…_ Hitsugaya glanced at Ichigo (who was currently doing his best to make some room in the wardrobe for the smaller male) with the corner of his eye, a sly smirk tugging on the edges of his lips as he plotted silently his next move.

"Dammit!" the boy cursed dramatically, barely succeeding in keeping a straight face as he saw the carrot-top spin around, eyes wide with surprise. _Attention caught. _"I think I lost the ring somewhere around here…"

"H-huh? Where?"

"Somewhere around here in the covers," Toushiro made a passable grimace before running his hands over the blanket as if in blind search "Will you come here and give me a hand with this?"

The carrot-top removed himself from his enticing activity and approached the smaller male, his tan hand scratching the back of his neck as he eyed the bed with innocent curiosity. The moment, however, he leaned over the sheets to take a better look, he was tackled down by Hitsugaya, both of them landing on the mattress with a small bounce.

"Mmm, I think I kindda found what I was looking for…" Toushiro purred as he straddled Ichigo's hips gracefully, a rare giggle rippling around him when he espied the mix of stupefaction and anxiety that was currently meddling with the carrot-top's face expression.

"Ok, _this_ side of you _still_ pops up when I least expect."

"I'm gonna count to three and if you don't start getting those clothes off yourself, I'll-"

"I might need some help with the zipper."

* * *

"Toushiro?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sleeping?"

A small grunt of discomfort left the white-haired youth's lips as Ichigo shifted a little, unintentionally pulling the edge of the covers down Hitsugaya's white shoulders and making the latter curl slightly to himself in an attempt to protect his body from the cold. The carrot-top chuckled slightly at the distressed frown that twisted the boy's brows and reached to run his fingers through the silky snow-colored locks.

"I was wondering" the strawberry continued as softly as possible as he propped himself on his other arm's elbow and peered over the drowsy figure. "Is there anywhere that you want to go? Anywhere in particular?"

Hitsugaya snorted, his mouth barely forming a patronizing sort of smile as he lisped almost unintelligibly:

"You're not skippin' university, Ichigo."

"It'll be just for awhile and I'll catch up wi-"

"No skipping. End of discussion."

"If you just think about it-"

"No. Now shut up. Three rounds is plenty I can take, now I need my fair share of sleep."

Ichigo sighed with slight irritation but wrapped his arms around the smaller male anyway, his nose burying into the welcoming sweet-scented neck. As he let himself slowly relax and drift to sleep along with the warm body pressed so firmly against his, he couldn't help but think that there were too many conversations that he wanted to have (and would) with Hitsugaya, despite the reluctance that his words were going to be met with.

* * *

The first three months and a half passed way too quickly for both of their liking. After a short argument regarding the matter, Hitsugaya eventually quitted his job at the café and instead used his free time (while Ichigo was out) to make unsuccessful tries to cook or steal Matsumoto from her workplace for excessively long walks in the park. Of the boy's check-ups in the hospital the carrot-top never seemed to hear as Toushiro did them alone and refused to talk about them. Every attempt of pressuring resulted in Hitsugaya evading the enquiries till the last moment possible and then suddenly switching his attitude completely by luring the strawberry in doing something much more pleasant than plain talk… under the covers. After the first few such incidents Kurosaki yield and reluctantly accepted the idea that his questions would always land on deaf ears… Or maybe it wasn't exactly that he surrendered and stopped asking… Maybe it was the fact that he didn't really want to know. Didn't really want to think about it. And the reason wasn't that he didn't care – because if anything, there was no doubt in his mind that he loved the short little blizzard with unhealthy passion and devotion – it was the cunningly deceitful image of perfection and happiness that Hitsugaya draped around the apartment with a sort of aristocratic ease, making everything outside the door seem unreal…

Under Toushiro's small hands the abode gradually transformed, losing its sense of time and tearing from the rest of the world so gently, so unnoticeably that Ichigo didn't even realize what was going on until it was too late. The place had turned into a warm, amiable and unbelievably sweet nook, full of more life and fondness than ever before, and it was all thanks to its new dweller. Upon his coming back from the university, the carrot-top would always find his beloved on the sofa, occupied with a thick book, or doing chores around the place with admirable diligence. The image was always so unbelievably touching in its peaceful ordinarity that the taller male completely abandoned ringing on the door-bell and created a completely different habit of his own. When he came back home, he sneaked inside the apartment and searched around for his white-haired prince, ever aiming for that one look of innocent surprise and affection that never failed to emerge on Hitsugaya's face when he saw the strawberry.

It was an unusually sunny Friday afternoon around October when Ichigo felt a new, utterly unknown type of fear for the first time in his entire life. He came home from university a bit earlier than usual, his temples throbbing with the first signs of headache. Kicking his shoes off and dragging his feet along the corridor, he reached the living-room's door and pushed it open, only to freeze on spot. The cream-colored curtains in the far end of the room were pulled back, letting the milky sunlight splash around the room in millions of sparkling rays, while the large, rectangular window was ajar, fresh air flowing almost bashfully inside. Hitsugaya was standing before the little table next to the left wall, clad in a pair of baggy pants and a white shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to the elbows, whereas the top two buttons on his chest were left undone to reveal few inches of flawless flesh. On the table itself, there was a tall, navy blue porcelain vase with a bouquet of large, nifty flowers tucked inside. In its gist there was nothing special about the scene, nothing original, shocking or unexpected. Yet there was a strange, undetermined kind of beauty in the simplicity of it all, such neat perfection, that Ichigo couldn't help it but surrender to the feeling as he felt a small knot of melancholic rapture form into the pit of his stomach.

Toushiro had reached forward, his slender pale fingers barely grazing against the frail petals, and there was that sort of sincere tenderness and affection in the simple touch which could easily break one's heart. The liquid-like light streamed through the glass behind him almost reverentially, enshrouding his slim form in its unblemished embrace… And then those eyes – so incredibly big and bright – lifting to meet the chocolate orbs of his beloved with mild surprise and warmth. Yes, his beloved… His beloved that could do nothing but stand there, downright struck with awe as he gazed at the person before him and saw faultlessness. Purity. Devastating beauty. It occurred to Ichigo then, that Toushiro had to be a fallen angel, a celestial being and, _and now_ the heavens wanted him back. It couldn't be any other way. Because what cruelty could want to have _this_ destroyed, what God would allow this sordid, vile sickness to-…

At that moment the carrot-top rushed forward, pulling the shocked boy against his chest and burying his nose into the tuft of white tresses.

"How can you ask of me to let you go…" he muttered, screwing his eyes shut. A small pained sigh tore from Hitsugaya's lips at that statement and he wrapped his pale arms around the broad back before him. Supporting the bigger, stronger of the two of them.

"Don't make me regret this, Ichigo." He whispered, anguish throbbing dulling in his voice. "I can't have this end yet."

The carrot-top withdrew just enough to look down at the shorter male and shook his head before leaning forward to press their lips together.

* * *

At times he found himself laying awake in bed, his arms wrapped around the sleeping pale form of the boy, and wishing that it was him who was sick, and not Hitsugaya. Then he wouldn't have to live afterwards… He wouldn't have to struggle to survive in a world without Toushiro, every single day, every single minute… Could he really? It was a question that he asked himself way too often. Sometimes he felt like dying just because of one single kiss that he had shared with those delicate petals that were the boy's lips, and what about… what about the day when… _When it would all go to hell._

Of course, Hitsugaya wouldn't accept any drastic treatment. No experimenting. No chemo. Just pills, the occasional injections and some minor procedures to keep him going. It didn't matter how loudly Ichigo yelled or how fervently he begged, Toushiro had made up his mind about it. Dying with pride. What a sickeningly sentimental wish. Did it really matter once you were gone, how exactly you had walked the road? The final destination was all the same. So why wouldn't he slow down in his stride down the aisle?

The first night that Ichigo woke up and found himself alone in bed, he didn't give it much thought and went back to sleep, assuming Hitsugaya had gotten up and gone for a glass of water. His suspicion was aroused a couple of nights later when the event occurred for a second time. He dangled his feet of the side of the bed and stumbled his way out of the bedroom, his sleepy eyes barely making out the silhouettes of the furniture in the darkness.

"Toushiro?" he closed the door behind him and tottered down the corridor only to stop when he saw the bathroom's door wide open, the lights turned on. Shadowing his unadjusted eyes with his hand, he peered carefully inside only to have all signs of sleepiness leave his body, replaced by blood-freezing horror.

Hitsugaya was sitting on the tiled floor next to the sink with his back against the wall, his whole body shaking violently as his fingers dug into his sides with unspoken agony. Labored breathing was wheezing between his parted lips and he had lowered his head between his bent knees in apparent attempt to allay the nauseous dizziness that was quaking his world. Gelid sweat had dewed the wax-like skin on his face, sticking the white wisps to his temples and forehead despite the low temperatures in the bathroom. To say that Toushiro looked unbecomingly small and feeble would be an understatement… but one would not be wrong if they added brittle to the list.

Upon hearing the soft sound of the carrot-top's nearing, the boy looked up, his glassy orbs fixing on the taller male with difficulty.

"Ichigo…" he uttered, his dry lips barely moving as he spoke. "Why are you up?"

The carrot-top's heart fell in his stomach at those words, the air being forced out of his lungs much like it would if he had been punched in the guts. The look of care, of sincere, so _stupidly_ selfless care that reflected in those jade pools gripped his chest in a painful grasp and he barely resisted the small broken sob that threatened to rip through his lips. In a heart-beat, he had rushed forward, dropping on his knees and cupping his beloved's face in his palms. The thin bones felt strangely fragile against his skin but he chose to ignore it, squeezing ever so slightly as to hint of the power of the feelings that were swirling inside him.

"You're getting worse, aren't you? The other day, today… Dammit, Toushiro, why didn't you wake me!"

The boy visibly flinched at the harsh desperation in the other male's voice and raised his trembling hand to Ichigo's wrists, trying to pray them away from his face.

"I didn't want to worry you." Hitsugaya whispered, the emotional burden falling on his shoulders like a heap of rocks and making his shaking grow worse sporadically. "I-I'm going to be fine… I just need a moment… _Gods!_" he clenched his teeth, eyes screwing shut before he curled to himself again, his face disappearing in his knees. "I-Ichigo, the cupboard above the sink…"

The med student didn't need any more instructions as he leapt to his feet, flinging the door of the cupboard back and rummaging frantically inside its content to pull out a small glass capsule with colorless liquid and a syringe set. Then he was on the floor before Toushiro again, fingers fumbling with the medication while he struggled never to let his eyes off the trembling frame. Before he had even had the time to prepare himself for the main part of the procedure, Hitsugaya had snatched the already full squirt from his hands. With one harsh movement, the needle was thrust in his leg, regardless of the pijama's bottom, the content forced inside his body with an unhesitant press on the top. Toushiro visibly tensed as the pain finally registered in his senses, then he pulled the syringe out, pale digits opening weakly around it and letting it clatter on he floor almost tragically. The sound seemed to affect him more than the medication itself as he slowly let out the breath he was holding and shuddered, a series of soft, unsteady pants rocking his body.

"Hey… Hey, are you alright?" Ichigo's strong hands wrapped around the shivering figure, pulling it away from the cold wall and against the strawberry's warm chest. Hitsugaya didn't protest – too weak to do anything but comply as he coiled to himself in the taller one's embrace, refusing to look up.

"I tried to… I tried to get the medicine on my own, but when I got here, I felt so-… I couldn't stand straight…"

"Shh, it's ok."

"It's not ok, Ichigo." The boy choked out, his body seemingly shrinking even more. "It'll only get worse from now on and you know it."

"I can handle it."

There was a small pause afterwards, Hitsugaya's unsteady fingers lifting to clutch the other one's arms with something that neared the verge of desperation as he shook his head.

"No, Ichigo." The boy whispered brokenly. "You can't."

* * *

The new medications that were prescribed to Toushiro worked for awhile. The side effects were much more evident than before and despite the boy's obvious efforts to make things seem alright, his body was gradually betraying him. He was tired all the time, weak, unable to concentrate and much more often than not Ichigo came back home to find his beloved fast asleep on the sofa. It wasn't long before their arguments started again – discussions about chemo, experimental treatment and whether the carrot-top should stop going to the university to spend more time with the enervated boy. On all matters Hitsugaya was unyielding – his resolution didn't falter once despite his physical feebleness and Kurosaki's growing frustration. The tension between them was slowly building up. With every new quarrel Toushiro seemed to lose another piece of his health, another precious bit of his strength, while Ichigo's anger was feeding off on his own misery and fear and at times he felt like screaming just because of that stubborn, weary look in the boy's eyes. The glint that was there when Hitsugaya repeated the same bloody words, every fucking time, the glint that never ceased to flicker no matter how faint its light was... It was pitiful really. Each refusal seemed to be yet another drop in the already brimming over cup that was the orange-haired bloke's patience, each "no" like a harsh twist of the dagger that was piercing his heart so viciously that it hurt to breathe, it hurt to wake up in the morning. At times he found himself losing the battle, giving in to his cruel, enraged side and yelling the way he never had in hopes to be heard.

It was one early evening in May when that happened for the very last time.

"What the hell is wrong with you? This can prolong your life!" Ichigo shouted, throwing his hands in the air as he paced back and forth in front of the sofa in which Hitsugaya was currently sitting. The boy sighed and looked up, forcing his slouched form to straighten up a bit as he faced his lover's demands for the umpteenth time, with very little to defend his own positions. Despite his efforts to reduce the visible effects that the sickness had on his body, the past few weeks his face had turned sickeningly sallow, the eyes deep-set and his whole expression was screaming of fatigue and weakness.

"We've already talked about this, Ichigo." He replied softly, wearily and the taller one froze dead in his track, turning ever so slowly to face the other male. As their gazes met – one strong and ardent and the other stoic but fragile like glass – something in the strawberry snapped and his features hardened, the desperation in his orbs quickly ebbing away, only to leave layers and layers of helpless wrath.

"Well, you don't seem to be listening, do you?" Ichigo whispered, venom dripping from his words as he took an almost threatening step towards the boy. "I'm begging you, and yet you keep refusing. Why? Why, Toushiro? There is NOTHING heroic about a death like the one you so wantonly seem to be craving for!"

Hitsugaya visibly flinched at the tone, his hands that had been resting peacefully in his lap now beginning to rumple the hems of his shirt as he forced the dry lump that had gathered in his throat down his gullet.

"This is not-… It's not why I don't want any serious treatment. I've told you before-"

"Oh, do remind me." Ichigo snapped, no traces of humor in the cold smile that twisted his lips. "I'm just too eager to hear it."

Hitsugaya's arms shifted, wrapping around his waist protectively in the painfully familiar manner that he seemed to resort to much too often lately. The shine of anguish in his teal orbs told it all - he already knew where this was heading. Their arguments had transformed in such well-rehearsed play recently, such a predictable unwrapping of the storyline that it was almost funny – in the most unamusing way possible. So why did it hurt worse with every single time it all reiterated? Was it because Ichigo was actually starting to _mean_ what he was saying? Because if it was really so, then-

"I-… I don't want to die like this. Dependent on drugs and losing track of the world." Toushiro uttered hoarsely, his chest suddenly very heavy, very tight "I don't want to lose the last few months I could spend with you, being myself-"

"Do you hear what you're saying? Do you even _realize_ what's coming out of your mouth?" The carrot-top exclaimed, shaking his head with something that vaguely resembled disappointment. Hitsugaya swallowed again, his fingers beginning to tremble now as he tried to force an understanding smile on his lips.

"Ichigo, I think we're both tired-"

"No, _you_ are the tired one." The sharp, lifeless chuckle that ripped from the taller male's lips was like a slap in the boy's face. "You know why that is? But of course you know. Funny thing, Toushiro… I'm starting to think you actually _like_ being sick."

Hitsugaya's eyes widened, his lips parting with shock as he recoiled in the sofa, shaking his head with disbelief.

"W-what? I-Ichigo, how can you-…"

"Because it's true, isn't it? You like being the martyr." The carrot-top flipped sarcastically, all remains of warmth peeling off his face as he added between clenched teeth "The poor, noble, self-sacrificing young man who despite everything, refused to take the _bad_, awful treatment."

"Please, don't talk to me like this." The boy whispered softly, helplessly, but Ichigo didn't seem to hear anything as he stepped forward, enunciating every word with underlined precision that was so perfectly aimed to hurt. Like it would make the carrot-top's own pain go away.

"But you know what? You're no saint. You're just a little coward. That's what you are – a selfish and goddamn stubborn coward." He hissed aggressively, gazing right back at the now watering jade orbs.

"N-no-…" Toushiro chocked out feebly but Ichigo shook his head and turned around, preparing to head for the front door.

"And maybe I'm not so willing to bear it anymore. Think about _that _for a change."

"I-Ichigo, _please_!" Hitsugaya called after the carrot-top, pushing himself on his feet only to cringe pitifully when the door was slammed shut behind the strawberry.

It took Ichigo about fifteen minutes of angry wondering about the streets to realize what he had said. Two equally powerful waves – one of regret and one of fear – washed over him and he spun around, rushing back to his apartment. _Idiot, idiot, IDIOT! _This was the one thing he knew he shouldn't say, the one thing that would make the shaky pillars of Hitsugaya's faith in their relationship crumble. And yet he had said them, he had pushed his luck in his goddamn desire to make the boy treat himself… Like that was ever going to work. _How much time does an upset midget need to pack his stuff and leave?_

The strawberry stormed inside his apartment and without thinking sprinted to the bedroom, only to freeze dead in his track as he flung the door back and was met with much more than scattered clothes and an opened sack.

"Toushiro!" he shouted with horror as his widened eyes landed on the unconscious form laying on the floor next to the bed. Rushing to the boy, he all but screamed as he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and forced his shaky fingers to dial the need number. "Hello? I-I need an ambulance…"

* * *

"So? Is he going to be alright?" as he uttered the question, Ichigo already wished he hadn't asked. The doctor folded his arms in front of his chest and took a step towards the standing carrot-top, the unreadable, composed look of a professional plastered on his face.

"He's stable. But I may have to have a word with you, Mr Kurosaki."

Something in the way the words were spoken affected Ichigo like a blow in the head, blurring his vision and withdrawing all the blood from his face. He felt himself nod, but the action was somehow distant, stiff, as though he was watching another person do it. Somewhere deep inside he knew where this was going, he expected it with a clenched, timid heart like a convict, anticipating his verdict.

He hadn't even realized how pitifully he had held to his last sparkle of hope till even that was extinguished by the competence of this man in white overall.

"He's getting worse much faster than we hoped. We're still running tests, but I think it's clear that he doesn't have much more left. What I find important for you to know is that I don't think all of this is only due to his sickness."

"What are you trying to say?" Ichigo uttered weakly, shifting his fingers a bit as he felt his palms start to sweat.

"Mostly stress. Emotional tension. Things possibly caused by the inability to resolve certain problems for a prolonged period of time, anxiety, maybe even fear. Have you noticed anything like that?"

Ichigo swallowed with difficulty, the crushing burden of guilt dropping on his shoulders as he nodded again:

"I might have a vague idea where this could have come from."

"Good, because it is vital that these factors are removed from his life as soon as possible. My most optimistic view is no more than three months as it is. At this rate it could get even less if things don't change."

"They'll change." Ichigo assured him, his brows furrowing with painful determination as he fought down the feeling of emptiness that was threatening to drown him.

* * *

It was funny how stubbornly Toushiro refused to let the carrot-top apologize and how tenaciously he claimed that their last argument had indicated that it was time for them to part. Convincing and begging didn't do the trick – it actually seemed to persuade the boy further that such measures were necessary – and the more Ichigo tried, the harder it seemed to get. Some statements Hitsugaya didn't even try refuting and instead spoke about duty and right and wrong – all things that managed to drive the strawberry up against the wall with frustration. Flowers, chocolates and visits by friends, who were well-informed about the situation (Matsumoto) only brought up a melancholic, slightly condescending smile on the patient's white face along with the ever so categorical shake of the head. _If you love me, you will understand. _What a plain lie, really, or maybe what a plain dream? Ichigo all but laughed at those thoughts. Did Hitsugaya really think sayings like this would drive him off? After all this time, the boy should've known better…

Ichigo kept trying with everything he had, again and again, till the very last moment of the smaller male's stay at the hospital. And when nothing seemed to work, the strawberry did the one thing that he could think of – he stood in the doorway in the day of Toushiro's discharging and refused to move.

"You can't do this. I will not let you go." Ichigo stated, blocking the door stubbornly despite the nurse's already unbecomingly loud yells. Before him and beside his bed stood a slightly baffled and incredulously looking Hitsugaya, clad in a pair of jeans, a green T-shirt and a thin jacket in his preparation to leave. "Do I have to repeat what I once told you? Leaving will not mean getting away from me."

"If you just think-" Toushiro tried but the taller male wasn't listening. Not really.

"I'll be there till the very last moment and you know it. _Goddamit_, Toushiro, I will not allow you to go. Not when I know that you don't want to!"

"Ichigo-"

"_No._ You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." The carrot-top insisted, the decisiveness slowly dripping from his face to leave a look of pure desperation. "I will not have you leave if I can still be with you."

The room fell silent. Even the nurse had quieted down, suddenly feeling ashamed of her previous overreacting, and was now contemplating the scene before her with the interest of a woman who had been watching soap operas for too long. When Hitsugaya finally spoke up again, his voice was quivering just a bit at the end:

"I'll never know how you do this. How you manage to make it all so easy, while turning all my beliefs and principles upside down." He paused, a tiny smile making its way on his lips as he added in a whisper "Just… Take me home."

* * *

Ichigo spent a lot of time thinking about the past. It could be because it gave him reasons to keep going. Or it could be because the present was so much harder to bear.

He didn't really care. All he cared about was that it was a hot, humid August night and he was in the hospital again, wandering aimlessly between the dream and the reality while the rhythmical beeping of the machine next to Hitsugaya's bed remained the only thing to fuel his hopes for a miracle. Even now.

"Ichigo…"

The carrot-top jumped, his eyes snapping open as the barely detectible whisper reached his ears. Leaning over the bed, he quickly scanned the ghostly pale face of his beloved in search for any signs of pain. When he found none whatsoever, he exhaled slowly through his nose and forced himself to smile reassuringly.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

Hitsugaya shifted, his features contorting into a grimace when his hands pushed against the covers with honest difficulty, almost as if the blanket was made of layers and layers of lead instead of a thin sheet of linen. Ichigo immediately reached to help the boy sit up, adjusting the pillow behind the small frame for support. His tan fingers brushed against the small back and he clenched his teeth, trying not to think of how projecting the bones there had become. Instead, he opened his mouth to ask if Toushiro needed anything, only to freeze on spot when he saw the look in those jade pools.

_No, no, no, noNONONONO!_

As if reading the taller one's thoughts, Hitsugaya let a small, wheeze sigh rip from his chest and nodded. Over the past month or so the outlines of his face had turned impossibly sharp, his skin thin and breakable like paper and his lips were so white, they were barely visible against the sickeningly grayish flesh. There was hardly anything left from the once beautiful and exquisite body, scarcely any fragment of his former glow, any bit of his exotic delicacy. The stunning teal orbs were there though, if drained and devoid of their old blaze, they were still there and whenever Ichigo gazed into them, he saw nothing but perfection.

"It's time." The boy uttered and when the carrot-top shook his head, preparing to argue, Toushiro reached over and grasped the tan hand, giving it a feeble squeeze. "Don't… waste the little that we have. I need-… I need your help now."

"W-what?" Ichigo whispered, disbelief refusing to leave his face as he stared almost imploringly at the other male. _What are you-…?_ Hitsugaya smiled condescendingly, his chest falling and rising as he spoke with obvious difficulty, his sentences torn by the need to breath:

"I've talked to the nurse, the doctor… about this. I can't… die in here. These walls, this ceiling… the smell… This can't be the last thing I'll feel before-"

"Don't talk like this."

Hitsugaya closed his eyes, his features relaxing for a moment.

"It's strange, isn't it?" he whispered, his voice sounding somewhat distant, almost as if he was reciting a poem. "The stars… That they'll always be there, and they'll always be shining, no matter what… No matter what happens to us."

Ichigo's eyes widened as he recognized his own words and it struck him hard, like a punch in the gut.

"You want to go there?" he choked out pitifully. "You want to-"

"I want to… go where it all started." Toushiro replied, a streak of decisiveness coloring his voice as his eyes fluttered open "Back when you didn't know… When time didn't pressure us." He turned to face the carrot-top, his lips twisting pleadingly. "I can't do it alone… I _need _you."

There was a small pause, during which both of them gazed in each other's eyes in search for understanding, in search for support for their own beliefs and hopes. Then Ichigo nodded, standing up and wrapping his arms around the small frame as carefully as he would treat an infant.

"C'mon." he whispered, stifling the pain that was oozing from the depths of his aching chest. "I'll help you get dressed."

By the time Ichigo pulled over to the side of the road on the very same spot he had eleven months ago, Toushiro's breathing had been reduced to a frequent series of shallow inhales and exhales. It had taken all of the strawberry's willpower not to turn around and drive right back to the hospital as fast as possible. Now it was too late to do anything other than oblige what the boy asked for.

"Come here." Ichigo whispered as he reached for the small form that was currently slumped weakly against the car's side window. The carrot-top wrapped his arms around the ridiculously thin waist and with almost no help from the other male, he pulled the boy into his lap, adjusting them so the white-haired head was supported securely by the broad chest. The top of the cabriolet was pushed back automatically with the well-known swishing sound and the sky was revealed, dark and perpetual as always. It wasn't nearly as clear as the night they had first come here and for some reason that upset Ichigo even more than the fact he had failed to resist his beloved's request.

"Are you still with me?" the carrot-top whispered, leaning a bit to place a chaste, loving kiss on the top of the silky white tuft. Toushiro sighed audibly, shifting feebly as he snuggled further into the other one's arms, eyes barely opened, barely seeing.

"Do you think… we'll see a falling star tonight?" the boy asked softly, and Ichigo couldn't help it but reckon that when the end approaches, one never fails to return to their purest, most innocently trusting side. A tan hand sneaked around their tightly pressed bodies to entangle with the pale fingers of the smaller one and squeeze lightly, reassuringly. _You're not alone, _he wanted to say, _I'm here. I kept my promise. _But what was the point of voicing this, really? It would make it all sound as though he had only kept his promise for the sake of keeping it, while in truth, he had no choice in the matter. No option. And not because conscious was whispering in his ear, but because right now, at this very moment, his heart was banging hard against his chest in one second, only to clench painfully in the next.

Duty. Right. Wrong. These words had no place here, not today.

"Yeah… We'll see one for sure." The carrot-top replied slightly throatily and he rather felt then saw Hitsugaya smile with timid relief at his words. "You want to make a wish?"

"It's very… important that I do. D-don't you…? Want to make a wish?"

"You already know what I would wish for." Ichigo whispered as he watched his beloved's tired eyes gaze at the blackness above in almost amusing seeking of the familiar blazing stripe. "What would you wish for?"

Something that could once be referred to as laughter but was now a mere shift of the few inches of air around them fell from the boy's lips.

"Idiot." He stated gently "If I tell you… it won't come true."

"I can promise you it will."

"You can't promise me that."

"I can promise you anything I want tonight."

They fell silent for a couple of minutes, the sound of Toushiro's unsteady breathing the only thing that cut through the quiet stillness of the summer night.

"Promise me something else, instead." The boy susurrated, squeezing Ichigo's fingers between his own with a startling sense of urgency. "Promise me..."

"Anything."

Hitsugaya swallowed with difficulty, his eyes screwing shut for a moment, only to open twice as weakly.

"Promise you'll be happy again… with somebody else. That you will, ultimately let go of the memory of me." His voice broke pitifully at the end but he kept going, his words assuming an uneven, quivering tone. "That you'll fall in love. That you will have a family to adore and take care of and maybe, just maybe, think of me… every once in awhile…"

"Damn, Toushiro, how can you ask me to-"

"_Promise_ me." The boy insisted, his brows furrowing in a distant, pained expression as he struggled to gain control over his voice. "Promise that you won't deny my death when I'm gone and you will not lose your hope... That you will mourn for awhile… but that you will move on. Move on, and graduate… become a successful doctor, and always, _always_ have a dream to follow." He paused, before adding in a chocked whisper. "Because sometimes… even the wildest dreams come true. I know that now."

Ichigo opened his mouth to say something but no words seemed to break through his clenched throat and instead he tightened his grip around the small figure, burying his nose into the white strands. Hitsugaya sighed at the feeling, reaching to run his fingers over his beloved's hand that laid on his own, pale one.

"I love you so _much_… so _damn_ much." The boy whispered, a pained shudder shaking his frame as his insides were clutched by invisible, shriveled digits that clawed against his fray body and ripped the life from him crumb by crumb. Ichigo's arms enveloped the trembling Toushiro and he hushed and cradled the sick youth till the fit was stifled by the painkillers and he was able to continue: " I-I've never felt this way about anyone… A-and that made me a selfish, _s-selfish_ person…"

"That's not true-"

"I didn't know when to stop… I dragged you into my personal hell… Deeper and deeper, till we came to this… " he shook his head when Ichigo tried to argue and turned into the larger arms to look into the pair of chocolate eyes with the burning intensity that once made the carrot-top's knees go weak. "And I will _never_ be able to apologize enough." A bitter smile twisted the wax-like lips as he added pensively. "Maybe because I don't feel as sorry as I should be... Or maybe because I know that I couldn't have stopped it, no matter what I tried… It doesn't really matter why… does it?" He then shifted, adjusting himself to assume his previous position with the back of his head supported by the carrot-top's shoulder and slumped against the larger body. Falling silent. As he waited for his falling star…

Ichigo never found the strength to speak up first and so they stayed like this, the soothing veil of silence wrapping around them, protecting them from the rest of the sleeping world. The time ticked by, minute by minute, and Toushiro's body grew stiller and stiller into the gentle embrace till he was barely breathing anymore. Till he was barely feeling anything at all.

"You'll… h-hold me, right?" the boy uttered barely above whisper. "You'll hold me till… till I'm gone."

What a ridiculous thing to ask, really…

That was no question. The question was if Ichigo was ever going to be able to let go.

"I'm here. I'm with you." The carrot-top whispered, running his fingers up and down Toushiro's unmoving arms as if in a hopeless attempt to stir the life that was quietly leaving his system. _Dammit, not yet… Not yet!_

"You know… you know what my wish was?" the boy managed, his lips moving with such incredible difficulty that it was a miracle he could speak at all. "I wished… I wished that I could live… to see the sunrise with you…"

"You can make it. You can make it, Toushiro, just don't give up." Ichigo mumbled, finding the boy's cold hands and squeezing them between his own. "If you just try..."

"No… I can't… The star… There was no falling star…" Hitsugaya blinked, the edges of his mouth pulling into a weak smile. "Guess the charm doesn't… work twice."

"Shh, don't talk like this. Just a little longer. A little longer…"

"Our time… has run out, Ichigo…" he swallowed and for a moment Ichigo thought that he felt the boy's hand try and return the squeeze. "Don't be afraid…"

A small strangled sound tore from the taller male's lips as the irony of the situation struck him cruelly. He should've been the one to chase away the boy's fears. He should've been the one to support him in this moment… so why were the roles reverse? Why were things turning out so wrong?

"Don't go yet…" Ichigo choked out, biting his lower lip as he pulled the smaller body against his even tighter. "My love. My angel…"

"It's okay…"came the soft whisper "It doesn't… hurt anymore… I'm just… tired… So… tired…"

"A little longer. Just a few more minutes…"

"Oh, Ichigo…" this time Toushiro's eyes shone with something that resembled pity "I don't think I can…But… You will watch the sun rise for me, won't you? A-and think about… our good moments…"

"We can watch it together, if you just…"

"Tell me you love me." He breathed and Ichigo moved to press a small, gentle kiss on the cracked lips.

"More than anything." The carrot-top mumbled, shaking his head as he watched the relieved look that slowly spread across the boy's face. "More than anything in this goddamn world..."

Hitsugaya paused for a moment, a small smile twisting his mouth as he forced his hand out of the carrot-top's grasp and lifted it to the tanned cheekbone. His fading irises sank into the vivid chocolate orbs and he sighed deeply, a gentle hum starting to seep between his lips like a soft leaf rustle.

"_My body is a cage_…" Toushiro's voice was barely above a whisper, barely above a breath, the strange, now distancing smile still in place as he brushed his trembling thumb across the taller male's cheek. "_That keeps me from dancing with the one I love_…_But my mind holds the key_… " Ichigo 's hand snatched up, covering the cold, fragile palm on his face, and a small chocking sound left his lips.

"Toushiro, _p-please_…"

"_I'm standing on a stage_…" the boy's teal orbs tore away, slithering across the dark, thick surface that was the night sky behind the carrot-top. "_Of fear and self doubt… It's a hollow play_…_But they'll clap anyway…_"

"Oh, God…" Ichigo's voice broke pathetically as he felt hot tears sting at the corners of his eyes. "_D-don't…_"

Toushiro's own eyes fell shut and his lashes trembled just a little as he tried to squeeze the warm hand that was currently clutching his own.

"Thank you, Ichigo…" he whispered. "For… letting me live my life so fully…"

"Dammit, _w-why_-" the carrot-top tried but was cut off as Hitsugaya's soft voice curled into the notes of the song again.

"_Though the fear keeps me moving…" _he swallowed with difficulty, his lower lip giving away a small quiver _"Still my heart beats so… slow_…" A sigh. And then… silence.

Silence. The loneliest, most heart-breaking sound. And the emptiest tune.

As he felt the hot tears finally spill and run down his cheeks, Ichigo couldn't help it but clutch the lifeless form to his chest, whispering his last question, his last inquiry to the deaf ears. Kissing the words into the chapped lips. Again and again.

Never to have them respond to them.

"Why… _why_ have you never sung to me before?"

But Ichigo knew. He knew the answer…

For the first time, Toushiro was free from the pain.

**Part 5  
**

And as he watched the endless sky before him, blossoming in warm colors, Ichigo couldn't help it but wonder: what would have happened if he hadn't made that wish 11 months ago?

_I'd never know true misery. Or pure happiness._, he thought, a small sad smile grazing his lips. Oh, how fate had its twisted ways of teaching people that the most precious things could break in a snap of the fingers, and how… and how nothing. Nothing, really. It didn't matter. Not now, not ever.

**Part 6**

And then he remembered – the only words that seemed to make sense anymore. Maybe the only one that ever had, apart from the 'I love you' that felt like dry paper against his tongue now…

His smile turned a scintilla bitterer at the thought that, of course, they were Toushiro's… Of course. Everything seemed to belong to Toushiro now. If it was _ever_ any different… And he closed his eyes, letting the familiar voice ripple in his mind and wash over him like a melancholic tide, preparing to ebb and leave him all empty, all alone. This time for good.

'_And __**Que sera, sera**__, Ichigo. No regrets.'_

No regrets. Never regrets.

* * *

**_A/N: Don't flame me._**


End file.
